More to Tell
by Angel16
Summary: COMPLETE - CH 10 & Epilogue up! A Vulcan diplomat on Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong? Sequel to "Confessions". COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

More to Tell, Ch. 1

Sequel to: Confessions  
  
By: Angel  
  
Summary: A Vulcan diplomat onboard Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong?  
  
Archive: Let me know where.  
  
Rating: I guess PG, for now.  
  
Disclaimers: Star Trek and its many incarnations are the property of others and therefore I do not financially benefit from this in any way.  
  
Notes: First, I want to thank everyone that responded to my previous stories. This story is a direct result of the positive feedback I received. Secondly, this is a sequel to "Confessions", but takes place about three months later. For the purposes of this story I have assumed that the season cliffhanger has been resolved. Therefore, Archer is back. Also, T'Pol has joined Starfleet, at the rank of Commander. This is very much a WIP, and I hope you appreciate it. Please let me know what you think so far. Now, on with the story.  
  
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The day started out as any other. The three top officers of the Enterprise sat around the Captain's table intent on sharing breakfast, friendship, and a little bit of ship's business chatter. However, despite the common atmosphere, the Captain could not help but notice the slightly tense distance between his two most trusted friends. Normally the conversation flowed between them like water, sometimes a soft brook and other times a raging river, but always constant. Today though, there was only silence. Captain Archer attempted to make small talk with the engineer, but his answers were abbreviated. So, a not-so-soft quiet permeated the air and just as Archer was about to try again he was saved by the sound of the ship's communications officer wafting through the room. "Bridge to Captain Archer."  
  
"Archer here," the Captain responded after punching the comm. Truth be told, he was glad for the interruption, even though he hadn't finished eating.  
  
The melodious sound of Ensign Sato's voice returned. "Captain. We've just been hailed by the Vulcan High Command. They are requesting to speak with you."  
  
Casting a glance at his first officer, he downed the last of his coffee before nodding as he answered. "Okay, Hoshi. I'm on my way." He turned briefly back to his friends and said, "Well, looks like you two have to finish without me today." He walked briskly toward the door before Commander T'Pol's voice stopped him.  
  
"Captain, perhaps I should join you? Since the message is from Vulcan..." she trailed off as she began to scoot her chair out.  
  
Archer waved her off. "No need, Commander. I'll let you know if I need you. Stay, enjoy your breakfast." With that, he was gone.  
  
Across the table from T'Pol, Charles 'Trip' Tucker III watched the exchange, his frustration and disappointment warring just below the surface. His thoughts drifted back to their conversation the night before.  
  
  
  
_The couple sat on the floor of her quarters, on opposite sides of the meditation candle. Their knees touched lightly on either side of the pedestal holding the pillar of wax while their hands met in the air, his palms up, hers palms down, held steady at chest height. Simultaneously, two sets of eyes began to flutter open as the meditation session came to an end. "Hmm. I will never get tired of this," Tucker stated in a soft voice made sleepy by the relaxation technique.  
  
T'Pol tilted her head to one side while slowly withdrawing her hands. She settled them in her lap before asking, "What exactly is it that you enjoy?"  
  
Now it was his turn to tilt his head. He puckered his lips in thought as he stared into the eyes of his partner. "Well, for starters, there's gettin' to know ya' better." He smiled that disarming smile that always made her heart beat a little faster in spite of herself. "I also like learnin' more about your culture. Of course, I'd be lyin' if I didn't admit to enjoyin' the calming effect." He leaned up and blew out the candle before continuing up and over the top of it to give T'Pol a slight kiss on the forehead. Settling back into his position, he opened his mouth to broach a topic that he knew would disrupt the pleasant atmosphere, but he had put it off long enough.  
  
She noticed his subtle change in posture just before his eyes looked down at the floor between them. Although she knew what the upcoming comments would likely be, she managed to maintain her control, something that would have been much more difficult not so long ago.  
  
"T'Pol," he started. "I want to talk about something important." He hesitated slightly before returning his eyes to hers. He searched them for a sign. Finding none, he sighed in frustration. "I think ya' know what I mean."  
  
"Assumptions would be most illogical. In a relationship such as ours, there may be many causes for serious conversation." Her response was calm, but he could make out the trace of dread in her. She did know.  
  
Fine, be that way. Taking a deep breath, he plunged in. "That's just it. Our relationship. I want to let people know about us. I'm tired of hidin'." He rose from the pillow he sat on and began pacing the room.  
  
The small breath he heard from her would've been a frustrated sigh from anyone else, in her it was barely discernable. "Trip," she started softly, "we've talked about this. We agreed to maintain privacy in our relationship." She, too, rose. Her stance on this issue was firm and her posture related that. She stood tall, arms crossed over her chest.  
  
He stopped pacing and glared at her. "Yeah, we agreed, three months ago, when the Cap'n was gone and you were in command and we didn't know what was goin' ta happen. But, now, things are stable and, for once, all's right with the universe. I want to shout from the highest mountain how I feel about ya'!" He hadn't said 'I love you' to her since their conversation in sickbay, months earlier. They'd agreed to take things slowly. She had so much to work out and so much had happened that they decided to start over. They needed to rebuild some trust after her admission of Trellium addiction and they wanted to be friends first and foremost.  
  
She felt her control slipping, something she normally allowed in small doses around him, but right now she needed it so that she wouldn't waiver. "How do you feel?" Her voice was small; he had to strain to hear her.  
  
The question shocked him. Surely she knew. They'd become so close in recent months, but he didn't want her to feel pressured, so he'd bit his tongue every time he wanted to say it. He smiled softly and breathed her name. "Oh, T'Pol. I'm so sorry. I thought ya' knew. I love ya', darlin', more than I ever thought I could love somebody." He encompassed her small form with his strong arms and planted a light kiss on her forehead before meeting it with his own. "That's why it kills me that I can't share it with everyone...our friends, families." He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent.  
  
She struggled with her inner demons yet again. More than anything, she wanted to make this man happy, but she couldn't do this, not yet. She pulled out of his embrace and took a cleansing breath. "I am only just beginning to regain some semblance of control. It has been an extremely difficult journey...for both us. I..." she faltered, her eyes searched his for understanding.  
  
"You're afraid," he completed her thought in a gentle tone. "You're afraid that if our friends found out about us it would diminish their opinion of ya', somehow make ya' less Vulcan." He only needed to look into her eyes to see the truth of it.  
  
Her head bowed slightly, unable to meet his gaze any longer. "Soon, I promise. Soon I will be ready." She paused before continuing. "We both knew that there would need to be compromises in our relationship, by our very natures."  
  
His anger flared at that. "Yeah; but why does it seem that I'm the one making all of them?" His breath left him in an exasperated rush as he ran his hand through his hair.  
  
Now she had looked up, her eyebrow reaching new heights. "Do you really feel that way?" she questioned.  
  
Shaking his head, he realized he was exhausted again. "Ya' know what? Let's just call it a night. 'kay? I'll see ya' at breakfast." She watched, speechless, as he walked out of the room.  
  
_  
  
All of this washed over him in a flash. He looked up in time to see the doors close on the retreating form of his Captain. T'Pol's eyes met his briefly before looking down at her untouched food. Abruptly, he stood and mumbled some excuse about the engines needing him before following Archer out of the room.  
  
Left alone, T'Pol felt the tears begin to well up. She clenched her fists tightly while breathing deeply. Slowly, her control reasserted itself and the carefully constructed façade she showed the world around her fell into place. She exited the dining room to attend her duties.  
  
End Chapter 1


	2. Chapter 2

More to Tell, Ch. 2 Sequel to: Confessions  
  
By: Angel  
  
Summary: A Vulcan diplomat onboard Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong?  
  
Archive: Let me know where.  
  
Rating: I guess PG, for now.  
  
Disclaimers: Star Trek and its many incarnations are the property of others and therefore I do not financially benefit from this in any way.  
  
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Captain Archer entered the bridge and made his way quickly to his chair. He stood before it as he turned to Ensign Sato. "Okay, Hoshi. On screen." Suddenly, the visage of one of the Captain's least favorite people appeared. "Good morning, Soval," Archer said. "What can I do for you today?" The fake smile of diplomacy was firmly planted on the Captain's face.  
  
Soval nodded his head in greeting as he responded succinctly, "Captain. There is a problem between the two governing bodies on one of Vulcan's primary trade planets, Mori. They have requested diplomatic assistance. The Vulcan High Command would appreciate it if you could transport a mediator and her assistants to help settle the dispute."  
  
The Captain noticed that the Ambassador did not say that _he_ would appreciate it. "Of course, Soval. Anything for our Vulcan friends. We can be in orbit around Vulcan in twelve hours. Archer out." With that, the screen went blank. Captain Archer turned to his fellow bridge officers, "Well, how do you like that? They need us! Travis, set a course for Vulcan, warp 3.5."  
  
"Aye, sir. 3.5," the young helmsman answered as his fingers danced over the controls.  
  
  
  
Commander Tucker stormed through the Enterprise corridors. In the process, he nearly ran over Lt. Reed. As the two men barreled into each other, the security officer grasped his friend by the arm. "Whoa, there, Trip. What's wrong?" The strong British accent brought the engineer out of his self-imposed trance.  
  
"What? Oh, hey Malcolm," he attempted to sound relaxed but failed miserably. "It's nothin'...just the engines, drivin' me nuts as usual." He smiled in what he hoped was a convincing way.  
  
'Not this again!' thought Reed. "Oh, right, the engines," he said to his comrade while at the same time noticing the direction Tucker was headed and thereby deducing that he hadn't even been to engineering yet that morning. Reluctantly, he continued, "You know, you and the engines seem to have been getting on all right for some time now." He clapped his friend hard on the back as he resumed his course down the hallway. Calling over his shoulder, he finished the thought. "I'm sure it's just a little kink. Nothing your 'magic fingers' can't work out." With that, he disappeared around a corner, a smirk gently tugging at his features.  
  
"What the hell?" Trip wondered aloud before continuing toward the second great love of his life, the engine room.  
  
  
  
A few minutes after canceling their communication, Ambassador Soval contacted Enterprise again. This time, he requested to speak with Archer in private. "Yes, Soval?" the Captain enquired once he had opened the channel in his ready room, his patience wearing thin.  
  
"We are alone, Captain?" The elder man's face showed no trace of emotion, but his voice betrayed slight annoyance.  
  
"We are. What is it now?" Archer collapsed bodily into his desk chair.  
  
Soval cleared his throat. "I would suggest that you not ask Commander T'Pol to join you in greeting the Vulcan shuttle. In fact, it would be best if the Commander be kept apart from the diplomatic party at all times."  
  
If the man had not been Vulcan, the Captain would have sworn he heard venom in his tone as he hissed the word 'commander'. "Why? She's my first officer. It would be illogical for her to not welcome them on board." He began to feel his own anger rising. The Ambassador was hiding something; that much was certain.  
  
With a perfectly passive voice, Soval answered, "Her willing participation in Starfleet and, by extension, her long-term assignment to an Earth vessel is considered a betrayal of our people. She has brought dishonor on her family and would no doubt be offensive to the mediator."  
  
Disbelief fought with fury to take over the Captain's face. He raked a hand through his hair. "You know, for a population that prides itself on diversity, you guys sure do hold a grudge against anyone who isn't what you accept as 'normal'." The Captain released a heavy sigh as he weighed his options. "I will abide by your request; not for you, but to protect Commander," his emphasis was clear, "T'Pol from having to defend herself. Good day, Soval." The communication ended.  
  
  
  
"I understand, sir." T'Pol's voice revealed no sentiment to the contrary as she stood across from Captain Archer's desk. "It is quite logical."  
  
"It's anything but logical, dammit. Why do your own people treat you like some kind of leper?" He began pacing as his anger resurfaced.  
  
The First Officer tilted her head to consider her Captain and friend. His concern for her was touching. "Captain, I appreciate your offense on my behalf; however, there is no need. My presence would be inappropriate and distracting to the mediator, who will, no doubt, have much to do over the course of our journey. I would not wish to be responsible for an ill- prepared summit. I shall endeavor to keep my distance until the Vulcan party has disembarked."  
  
Accepting defeat, Archer threw up his hands. "Whatever makes you comfortable, T'Pol." He watched the woman for a moment as she turned to go. He stopped her with a question. "How are you and Trip doing?"  
  
She was surprised, but managed to keep it hidden. "Excuse me, sir?"  
  
The Captain stood in front of her now and looked deep in her eyes. Plunging ahead, he said, "Look, I know something's happened. It started in the Expanse, although I was too caught up in myself and the mission to see it clearly. But, since I've been back I've noticed...I don't know what it is. Are you two friends? Are you lovers? Is it more than that? I just don't know, and if you want to keep it private, that's fine. It's just that I also noticed tension at breakfast this morning. I consider you and Trip my best friends, I just want to make sure you're both okay." He smiled at her. There was a time when he considered having a relationship with the beautiful woman before him. But that was long ago, and looking back, he realized that what he felt was just natural infatuation brought on by working closely together. If there was a romantic relationship between the two people he held most dear, he couldn't be happier for them.  
  
Within herself, T'Pol warred with a response. Should she confirm his suspicions as to their relationship? She glanced down and reached a compromise. "The situation between Commander Tucker and myself is...complicated. However, rest assured that it will not interfere with our duties." She considered the answer sufficient; the Captain apparently did not.  
  
"That's not what I asked. And I never accused you of letting it interfere." He watched her closely and thought momentarily that her lip trembled slightly, but then it was gone.  
  
She allowed herself a sigh. "We had a disagreement last evening, but I do not believe it will have long term effects." Archer wasn't sure he believed her, but he let it go since it was obvious she wasn't going to be anymore forthcoming. 'Maybe I'll have lunch with Trip today,' he thought.  
  
"All right. If there's anything I can do, let me know." With that, he returned to his desk chair, effectively dismissing her.  
  
  
  
The doors to Engineering opened to admit the First Officer. She strode silently across the department, ostensibly to obtain data on the latest sensor upgrades. However, as she approached Ensign Bradford her eyes scanned the room methodically. "Ma'am. Here's the information you requested," the young man said as he handed her a padd. If he had found her call from the bridge to be unusual, it was made all the worse by her coming to Engineering personally to retrieve the data.  
  
Silently, she reached out and accepted the padd, a very un-Vulcan-like air of distraction about her. "Ma'am?" the ensign repeated. "Was there anything else?" he asked when she did not depart.  
  
Breaking out of her reverie, she asked, "Have you seen Commander Tucker? We have ship's business to discuss."  
  
"Yes, ma'am," the boy was thrilled that he could be helpful and also that she would soon be leaving his immediate presence. She made him intensely nervous. "He's in access tube eight, doing some maintenance to the flow regulators." He gestured in the direction of the appropriate hatchway.  
  
"Thank you, ensign." Her voice was almost a whisper as she walked slowly away. She approached the tube's entrance but hesitated before entering. The clanking sounds of physical labor drifted down the tube and floated around her, accompanied by the soft mutterings and occasional curses of the engineer she sought. She closed her eyes and absorbed the mild cacophony while she took a deep cleansing breath. As she exhaled, she began to climb into the accessway.  
  
End Chapter 2 


	3. Chapter 3

More to Tell, Ch. 3 Sequel to: Confessions  
  
By: Angel  
  
Summary: A Vulcan diplomat onboard Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong?  
  
Archive: Let me know where.  
  
Rating: I guess PG, for now.  
  
Disclaimers: Star Trek and its many incarnations are the property of others and therefore I do not financially benefit from this in any way.  
  
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Commander Tucker recognized the sound of someone climbing into the hatchway. The soft rustle of fabric followed by the scooting noises of crawling had floated to his ears while he attempted another bit of rewiring. He turned to face the interloper as he wondered who dared disobey his order not to be disturbed. When he saw her his grimace turned to a half-smile. He still wasn't used to seeing her in the blue jumpsuit of Starfleet, and secretly missed the more revealing cat suits she had worn previously. She kept focused on the floor as she moved, so he watched as she crawled on all fours along the tube. His eyes started at her shoulders as they cocked up and down with the motion. Next, he admired how her breasts hung down, their weight swaying gently. Finally, his gaze traveled to her hips and buttocks. They moved in a sultry, feline-like way with each movement. For a moment, he forgot that he was upset with her. 'Damn, but I'm the luckiest man in the universe!' he thought before remembering.  
  
T'Pol approached him slowly. When she finally reached him, she maneuvered into a sitting position next to him, close enough to invade his space but far enough away to be considered professional if anyone else should happen to look up the tube and see them. She wasted no time in getting to the point of her visit. "I wish to apologize," she started with her eyes bowed down.  
  
'Yep, definitely the luckiest man in the universe!' he thought. Slyly, he took her hand in his and held it tight. He bent his head down to look her in the eyes. "No, if anyone should apologize it's me. Ya' were right. We did agree ta keep it secret and I shouldn't have tried ta push ya' into something ya're not ready for."  
  
Her characteristic un-smile lit up her eyes. She squeezed his hand in return and responded. "Thank you. Would you like to have lunch with me today?" she asked, effectively lightening the mood.  
  
His smile lit up the small confines of the access tube as he replied, "I'd love ta, darlin', but the Cap'n called down just a few minutes ago and invited me ta join him for lunch. He used his, 'it's not an order, but it can be if you make me say it' tone of voice. He loves ta do that ta me."  
  
A quirk of her slim eyebrow was the only reply the lovely Vulcan allowed. Then, she proceeded to fill Tucker in on the events of the morning and her disinvitation to be part of the greeting party.  
  
"I'll talk ta the Cap'n about it over lunch," Trip offered. "I'm sure I can get him ta see reason."  
  
"It is not necessary. As I told the Captain, I am not offended in any way. And you should not be either. Charles, if something like this bothers you, imagine the reaction of many of our peoples when they learn of our involvement." Her face maintained its usual calm appearance. "Besides, it was not the Captain's idea, it was the Vulcan High Command's." Her voice lowered and he thought he saw a bit of shame in her eyes.  
  
"Hey," he raised her chin with the slightest of touches. "Ya' have nothing ta be ashamed of, T'Pol. No matter what the small-minded people of our worlds may think, ya' and I are not an anomaly. There will be others. They had better learn ta deal with it." He smiled and glanced over her shoulder to peek at the entrance to the access tube. Feeling relatively safe, he leaned in and gave her a small kiss on the forehead.  
  
"Really, Commander," her voice sounded serious, but he could see the amusement in her deep brown eyes. "That is completely inappropriate while on duty. And I am not ashamed of you in any way. "  
  
He smiled at the truth he saw in her features. He thought about the brief kiss again. "Maybe we can continue it later then? Say, my quarters, 2000 hours?" He raised his eyebrows twice quickly, followed by a wink. She simply allowed half a smile to show before making her way back out of the tube.  
  
  
  
Trip checked the time on his computer the minute he entered his quarters. "Damn! 1947 hours. T'Pol's gonna be here in 13 minutes, and I'm filthy!" he exclaimed aloud as he headed toward the shower. Eight minutes later, he was washed, dried, and dressed in casual attire as he began lighting candles set on a small table. As he opened a bottle of wine he'd acquired during Enterprise's refit, his door chime sounded.  
  
"Come," he called with a smile in his voice and he turned to the door. "Ya're early," he held two wineglasses aloft, offering one to his guest.  
  
Captain Archer strode into the room before noticing the situation. 'As usual, Jon, you leap before you look,' he admonished himself. "Uh, hey, Trip. I thought that since I had to cancel lunch, maybe we could grab a little dinner before we rendezvous with the Vulcan shuttle." He had the good sense to look embarrassed. "I didn't realize you had plans."  
  
"Oh, what this? No, it's nothin', Cap'n. Really." He stammered, trying to come up with a logical (damn that woman!) explanation. "I, uh..." The door chime buzzed again.  
  
The men looked at each other for what seemed to be hours, but in reality could only have been seconds. 'Now what do I do?' thought Trip. Again the insistent tone echoed through the room.  
  
"Aren't you going to invite them in?" Archer asked, gesturing toward the door.  
  
Shaking his head in resignation, his friend called out, "Come in."  
  
Archer's shock was evident on his face, from the wide eyes to the dropped chin; he looked like a man thrown for a loop. T'Pol stood in the doorway, framed by the brighter light of the corridor. She wore a floor-length gown of shimmering gold material. It billowed around her slight form and flowed with a gossamer grace when she moved to enter the small cabin. The dress was definitely Vulcan in design with roomy sleeves and symbols embroidered down the midline. The Captain's surprise was reflected in her stature, as she squared her shoulders and quickly clasped her hands behind her back. "Captain," she greeted him with a sideways glance to the room's rightful occupant.  
  
He looked back at her and shrugged from behind the Captain, a silly smile playing at his mouth. "Sorry," he mouthed.  
  
"I believe this was for you," the Captain recovered his composure and handed T'Pol the glass of wine Trip had abandoned on the table. He turned back to his engineer momentarily. "We are due to dock with the Vulcan ship in 20 minutes, Commander. Since I can't have my First Officer there, I expect you to help greet our guests." His tone was all business, but his expression was one of pure delight. He left without another word.  
  
"I'm goin' ta have a lot of questions ta answer tomorrow." Trip sighed and took a big gulp of wine.  
  
"Indeed," T'Pol agreed and moved further into the confines of the small room. "What will you say?" She knew that he would never betray her trust, but how would he respond to what would surely be an extensive round of personal questions.  
  
Tucker refilled his glass as he considered it. "I don't know," he finally stated. "I'll come up with something, though." He gave her his soul- shattering smile.  
  
She looked down into her wineglass and seemed to ponder the contents thoroughly. She swirled it gently before saying, "Perhaps you should answer him truthfully."  
  
Wine splattered across the room, straight from Trip's mouth. "What? I thought you didn't want to tell anyone?"  
  
"Well, that was before the Captain saw me walk in here this evening and before he questioned me regarding our relationship this morning. I believe the Captain is aware that there is something going on." Her eyes locked on his and he could see the trepidation. "Logically, we should confide in him as he has probably already deduced the situation." Her voice trembled slightly and he noticed her hand begin to shake ever so slightly.  
  
He moved to her, putting his glass down along the way, and wrapped her in his arms. "I know you're terrified. I'm so proud of ya' for the way you've regained yer control. I don't want to jeopardize that. I'll abide whatever ya' decide."  
  
She buried her face in his chest and felt his body's warmth envelope her. It felt so right to be in his embrace. She wanted to share their happiness as much as he did; she was just still so scared. She was so grateful to have him to help her. It would have been impossible to get back her control without him. She took a deep breath, savoring the scent of his cologne, and reached a decision, "We should inform the Captain of our relationship, but ask him to maintain our privacy, for now." It was a compromise. Again.  
  
He dropped a kiss on her hair and squeezed her tight. "Okay, then. But, for now, I'm afraid I've gotta go meet 'n greet, darlin'." He pulled back slightly to look her in the face.  
  
She met his gaze with one filled with love. It made his heart ache to see so much raw emotion in her eyes, not knowing if she'd ever be able to voice it, even to him. He broke away reluctantly and went to the even smaller bathroom to change into a uniform. When he returned, she had finished her wine and was refilling the glass. "Make yourself at home. Hopefully, I'll be back soon." He headed toward the door, but before it opened he called to her, "I love ya, darlin'." The door closed behind him.  
  
"I love you, too," T'Pol said to the cold metal before finishing her drink.  
  
  
  
Captain Archer and Lieutenant Reed were waiting at the airlock when Commander Tucker arrived. "Good evening, sir," Reed nodded toward his friend.  
  
"Hey, Mal," Trip responded while looking at Archer for some sign of what the older man was thinking. He jumped in, "Hello, Cap'n."  
  
A smile pulled at the Captain's features and he had a thousand things he wanted to say to his long-time friend, but his only response was, "Commander," and a tilt of the head.  
  
The shuttle docked with a loud clank followed by a hissing sound as the airlock pressurized. When the control board lit up green, Malcolm punched in the code allowing the heavy door to roll away. He maintained his position at the panel while the Captain and Trip stood at attention to formally greet the visitors.  
  
Three Vulcans, two female and one male, walked through the small passageway of the airlock. The lead female approached the Captain. Her hand extended in greeting, she offered a human handshake. Dumbfounded, Archer paused before taking her small hand in his large one. As they pumped their hands up and down in a firm but polite shake, she said, "Greetings, Captain Archer. I am T'Shar, First Mediator of the Vulcan High Command. These are my assistants: Jesa and Sovid." She indicated first the female and then the male. "I appreciate your generous offer to ferry us to our mission." The handshake had completed and she had quickly followed up by offering her hand to both the Commander and Lt. Reed.  
  
"Greetings. What is your appropriate title, ma'am? Is it simply 'mediator'?" Archer asked for the purposes of protocol.  
  
"Oh, no, Captain. I am simply called Lady T'Shar. I have no need for superfluous titles. They represent an illogical need to gratify one's ego. Except, of course, for when necessary to maintain the proper chain of command." She bowed her head slightly.  
  
Archer smiled broadly. He liked this woman. He wondered what 'Ambassador' Soval would think of her opinion of titles. "Well then, Lady T'Shar, welcome aboard the Enterprise." The small group had moved away from the airlock and was en route to their guests' temporary quarters, an addition made during the recent refit.  
  
"If I may, Captain. Where is Commander T'Pol? I expected that she would meet us." The question revealed no offense, but it did sound a bit strained.  
  
Trip and the Captain exchanged looks; they both wore similar frowns. "My apologies, Lady. I thought it best the Commander not be present this evening. It was my understanding that most of your people were disappointed in her decision to join Starfleet. I didn't want that to be a distraction for you."  
  
The mediator nodded in a knowing way. "You mean, sir, that Ambassador Soval said that I would be offended by her presence. Therefore, you chose to omit her from this encounter."  
  
Another look passed between the men as she continued. "I certainly hope that she has not been ordered to remain in her quarters for the duration of our stay." The Lady had stopped walking and was glaring pointedly at the Captain.  
  
"No, ma'am, of course not. She will be on duty as usual, and her free time is hers to do with as she sees fit, as usual." Trip did not miss the slight glance the Captain afforded him at that, neither did the Lady T'Shar.  
  
Malcolm and the assistants were completely out of the loop, however, having lagged behind carrying suitcases and nearly bumped into the first group when they stopped. The entire party resumed their walk in silence and quickly found themselves outside the guest quarters.  
  
"Lady T'Shar, I'd like to offer all of you a tour of Enterprise," the Captain stated, taking all three of them in with his gaze. "Perhaps, tomorrow morning?"  
  
"Thank you, Captain. That would be acceptable. Now, if you will excuse us, we must meditate before retiring for the night." The Vulcans all entered their rooms, leaving the Enterprise officers alone on deck.  
  
  
  
The mess hall bustled with the sounds of the lunch crowd. T'Pol obtained a small salad and a cup of tea while she scanned the room. Her eyes settled on the person she sought. He sat near the windows, his back toward the door. Her approach startled him. "May I join you, Commander?" she asked softly.  
  
Smiling, he gestured for her to sit as he chewed. He swallowed and said, "It's good to see you, Commander." He leaned a little closer and lowered his voice so that only she could hear him before he continued. "I missed ya' when I got back to my quarters last night, and ya' weren't at breakfast either."  
  
She sipped her tea and then spoke around the rim of her cup. "I needed to meditate last night. This morning I was on the bridge while the Captain conducted the tour of the ship."  
  
Hoshi and Travis sat on the opposite side of the mess hall engaged in a little lunchtime gossip, when she looked up and saw the commanders seated across the room. "Does that look a little too intimate to you?" she asked in a conspiratorial tone.  
  
"What? Them? Yeah, right. That'll be the day." He dismissed her with a wave, but secretly he thought she might be right.  
  
Tucker nodded slightly and they continued the meal in relative silence, oblivious to the scrutiny they were being subjected to. After they'd completed their meals and were finishing their drinks T'Pol asked about the Vulcan team. "How did the meeting with the Mediator go last night? Is he anyone you had met before?"  
  
Trip looked sideways at her, a question obvious in his furrowed brow. "He? It's a she and I guess it went okay. Although, she seemed upset that you weren't there."  
  
T'Pol raised her eyebrow at him and tilted her head. "As you well know, 'upset' is a human emotion."  
  
"And as I well know, Vulcans do not experience emotions." His gentle tone implied no disrespect. "Look, darlin'," now his voice dropped again, for only her sensitive Vulcan ears to hear, "if there's one thing I do know, it's that ya'll do have 'em just like the rest of us. And, I've gotten pretty good at readin' Vulcan body language lately." He winked at her.  
  
'Oh my God!' thought Hoshi. 'Did she just blush?' It was hard to tell from sitting behind them, but she swore there was a definite green tinge moving up the back of the First Officer's neck.  
  
Her pulse raced as his breath brushed against the tender skin of her neck. She felt herself begin to flush. It was time to change the heading of this conversation before she lost her control. She took a deep breath to calm her heart rate and then veered the talk back to the guests. "Did you spend much time visiting with them last night?"  
  
Again a questioning look crossed Tucker's face. "Didn't ya' meet 'em this mornin'?"  
  
She shook her head. "No. I thought it best to avoid them as they toured the ship."  
  
"Oh. Well, Lady T'Shar seems nice enough and her assistants didn't say two words last night." He took a large gulp of his rapidly cooling coffee.  
  
T'Pol's head snapped up to meet his gaze. He recognized the fear in her eyes that no one else would see. "Did you say, Lady T'Shar?"  
  
Worry streaked his features as he took in her distress. "What is it, T'Pol? What's wrong?" he whispered.  
  
At just that moment, a regal looking woman approached them from behind. Her voice was strong and clear. She made no attempt to lower her tone, but did not shout either. She stood straight and tall at T'Pol's side when she said, "I would speak with you, daughter."  
  
End Chapter 3  
  
Notes: Remember, the fastest road to the next chapter is paved with lots and lots of feedback! 


	4. Chapter 4

More to Tell, Ch. 4 Sequel to: Confessions  
  
By: Angel  
  
Summary: A Vulcan diplomat onboard Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong?  
  
Archive: Let me know where.  
  
Rating: I guess PG, for now.  
  
Disclaimers: Star Trek and its many incarnations are the property of others and therefore I do not financially benefit from this in any way.  
  
Notes: Sorry this chapter took so long. I could offer a bunch of excuses, but the simple fact would remain that it took a long time to write, whatever the reasons. Thanks for all the great feedback regarding the previous chapters; I hope you enjoy this one as well! On with the show:  
  
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"I would speak with you, daughter."  
  
The immediate silence that fell over the entire mess hall was deafening. T'Pol stood and prepared to follow her elder from the crowded room, but was stopped by the firm grasp of Commander Tucker on her wrist. "T'Pol?" he whispered with urgency.  
  
Her features were unmoved, but her pulse raced beneath his clutch. "Commander, thank you for joining me for lunch today." She gently pulled her arm back from him and again turned toward the back of the woman that had beckoned her.  
  
Lady T'Shar had not moved except to turn to face the exit. The two Vulcan women began to walk across the room just as the shrill tone of the communications unit sounded followed by a familiar voice. "Archer to Lady T'Shar."  
  
Had the mediator been human, she would no doubt have sighed in exasperation. She was, however, not and so she did not. She walked gracefully to the wall unit as if that had been her destination all along and depressed the button. "Yes, Captain?"  
  
"We've reached Mori ahead of schedule are about to enter orbit, ma'am. The government of Cinsy has hailed us and is awaiting your arrival."  
  
"I understand. Has the province of Keda been notified?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am. They have a representative en route."  
  
"Very well. I will be at the shuttle in approximately three minutes." She reached out to toggle the switch before turning to face T'Pol, who had stood silently behind her during the exchange. "We will have to delay our discussion until I return, daughter." With that, the formidable woman turned abruptly and left.  
  
  
  
He ran hard, harder than he'd ever run before. He didn't know where he was or where he was going, but he knew that if he stopped running they'd get him. He cast a glance back over his shoulder, but all he could see was darkness. When he turned to face forward again, they were there. He stopped just short of barreling into them. Sweat poured down his face and stung his eyes, his muscles ached with exertion, and his jaw clenched in anger and terror simultaneously. The object of his terror filled his vision. Xindi.  
  
He was surrounded now. They were reptilian, but they wore heavy armor and masks that concealed their faces. He began to fight. Fists flying everywhere, kicks shooting out randomly, and ducks as needed to avoid being hit. Somehow, it was working. Soon, there was only one Xindi left standing. They fought ferociously, these two enemies. He poured out all of his frustration and fury against this masked menace. He hated them. They were everything he despised. Finally, he gained the upper hand in the battle. He came up behind the large reptile and grasped him tightly around the throat using his whole arm and his opposite hand holding tight to his wrist. He pulled and pulled. That's when he felt it. The satisfying give of slowly breaking bone. The creature struggled with his last breath, trying to live until there was nothing left. He released his opponent and allowed him to slide unceremoniously to the ground in a heap.  
  
The victor leered down at the fallen enemy. He felt his heart pound with the effort of the fight, but he also felt strong. He felt superior. Reaching down, he stripped the mask from his foe and felt his blood run cold. The vacant stare of the dead man grabbed his attention. The face he saw was his own. Then, the blue-tinged lips began to move and his own voice called out from the lifeless throat, "See what you have become!"  
  
Captain Jonathan Archer awoke with a start in his ready room desk chair, the insistent tone alerting him to an incoming message. He shook off the nightmare that had plagued him for months as he answered it, "Archer here."  
  
"Captain," Lieutenant Reed's voice echoed through the room. "Sir, there's trouble with the shuttle pod."  
  
"On my way, Lieutenant."  
  
  
  
"Damn it, T'Pol! Why didn't ya' tell me the mediator was yer mother?" Trip's anger hid his hurt effectively. He had followed her to her quarters immediately after T'Shar had left the mess hall, before the questioning stares of their fellow crewmembers became too much for her already strained control.  
  
She closed her eyes, head bowed slightly, as she answered tonelessly, "I didn't know it would be her. I have not spoken with my family for quite some time." He heard the soft sound of regret and watched as her shoulders slumped in rejection.  
  
He gained his own control again and ran a hand through his hair. With a frustrated sigh he asked, "Why not?" although he felt he already knew the answer.  
  
"Because I have distanced myself from our ways. Soval was not incorrect when he said that many of our people, in fact most of our people, find me offensive. I have turned my back on our most sacred traditions and that is unacceptable." She had plopped onto the bunk in a heap.  
  
Trip shook his head in disbelief. "So, yer tellin' me that yer own fam'ly turned their backs on ya'? All because ya' did what makes ya' happy?"  
  
T'Pol looked up at him from hooded eyes; she almost smiled at the thickness of his accent. 'He must be really upset over this,' she thought with – gulp! – pride. "I never gave them the opportunity," she stated with finality. "When I made my decision to join Starfleet, I sent them a notice and asked that they not try to contact me in order to save themselves from disgrace. As you'll recall, I'd already ended my betrothal to a respected Vulcan citizen and that had placed my family in a precarious position. I believed, and still do, that this most recent decision would be disastrous to them. They would be forced to publicly disown me in order to save the family name. This way, I disowned them and spared them that."  
  
"But, T'Pol," he sat down next to her and placed a hand on top of one of hers.  
  
"No. There is nothing else to say, Charles. There is more at stake than my 'feelings'. I have my parents and siblings to consider, not to mention their spouses and children. No, I will not allow my own emotional desire for a family connection to put them at jeopardy." She looked at him with pleading. "Please, respect my wishes in this matter."  
  
He stroked her cheek and tenderly kissed her lips. "Okay, darlin'. Whatever ya' say is best."  
  
She shared a sad smile with him and leaned in to kiss him again just as the com unit buzzed. "Archer to T'Pol." The urgency was unmistakable.  
  
"T'Pol here."  
  
"I need you on the bridge, Commander. It seems that the shuttle pod has been fired on. They were forced to make an emergency landing and we've lost contact."  
  
The two officers shared a look of worry before slipping into their professional personas. Trip answered for both of them, "Aye, sir. We're on our way."  
  
  
  
End Chapter 4 


	5. Chapter 5

More to Tell, Ch. 5 Sequel to: Confessions  
  
By: Angel  
  
Summary: A Vulcan diplomat onboard Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong?  
  
Archive: Let me know where.  
  
Rating: I guess PG, for now.  
  
Disclaimers: Star Trek and its many incarnations are the property of others and therefore I do not financially benefit from this in any way.  
  
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The command crew of the starship Enterprise was gathered in the situation room within ten minutes of the Captain's hail. Lieutenant Reed had begun his covert inspection of them immediately. He noticed that his best friend, Commander Tucker, and the ship's science officer arrived together for the meeting. There was very little space between their bodies as they entered the room, and if anything they'd moved physically closer during the Captain's update. He wondered idly if he would be able to slip a piece of paper between them at this point.  
  
He cast a glance at Ensign Sato. She had changed so much since their initial mission more than three years ago. The woman before him now was strong, self-confident, and incredibly beautiful. Not that she wasn't beautiful before, but now she almost glowed with an inner light. The Xindi had put her through her own personal hell not long ago, and she'd had a difficult time coming back to duty afterward, Reed knew, but she'd fought hard and along the way she became the woman now seated across from him.  
  
The Captain. Now that was an enigma. He put on such a front to his officers. The past year had pushed the man to his limits, maybe beyond them. Since he'd returned from that whole time-paradox disaster though, he acted as if nothing had changed. He smiled and laughed and had not once mentioned the word 'Xindi' since the formal debriefing. 'Something's gotta give,' Reed thought.  
  
Finally, his gaze traveled discreetly to the newest member of the elite group, Major Jenson. 'Damn, I miss Hayes!' the tactical officer admitted to himself grudgingly. He had nothing against Major Jenson; he just wasn't Hayes. Despite the difficulty Reed and Hayes had had, by the end the Brit had to admit a deep respect for the man and he was sure that they would've been good friends had fate allowed them the time. But it hadn't. Now he had to deal with Jenson and learn to work with this MACO's unique routine.  
  
Malcolm's attention returned to the Captain full force. He listened intently, aware that another of his friend's lives was at stake here. Travis had been flying the shuttle pod that was shot down over the planet Mori.  
  
"As we understand it from Ensign Mayweather's final communication, the shuttle had cleared the atmosphere and was laying in a course for the capital city in the northern hemisphere of Cinsy when they were attacked. At this time, we know that our shuttle was disabled. Mr. Mayweather's channel broke up just as he was about to forward the coordinates where they were planning to make an emergency landing, but we have a pretty good idea of where they went down based on course and speed." The Captain had placed his hands on the table and looked around the room, surveying his officers.  
  
"Have we heard anything from the surface, sir?" Jenson asked.  
  
Archer quickly acknowledged the spit and polish MACO with a nod. "The government of Keda, which occupies the southern hemisphere, has claimed responsibility for the attack, but will not confirm if the shuttle survived the crash."  
  
The Captain paused and looked around at his crew. They were considered the best and he had no doubt that they would put their all into this rescue mission. Still, he needed to remind them of the passengers they were responsible for. "This situation could get very bad very quickly," he started; looking across at T'Pol he continued. "Lady T'Shar is a very prominent Vulcan citizen. I don't need to remind you of the serious repercussions a failure in this mission could bring about." He decided that he had said enough; his team was the best, it was time to let them do their jobs.  
  
"Okay, Malcolm I want you and Jenson to coordinate a rescue effort with shuttle pod two." Before the Captain could continue he was interrupted.  
  
"Captain, I request permission to join the rescue team." T'Pol's voice revealed nothing, but something about her eyes let the Captain know this was important to her. He caught Trip's eye over her shoulder. His friend was worried for her.  
  
"I don't think that's such a good idea, Cap'n," Trip interjected. T'Pol practically screamed at him with her eyes.  
  
Archer watched the rapid interaction between his two most senior officers and reached a conclusion. "Sorry, Commander," he began and at first no one knew who he was talking to. "But I think it's a good idea for T'Pol to go with them. Commander," he turned directly to look at the Vulcan woman, "head to the landing bay. Malcolm, Jenson, get your teams together. Depart when you're ready. Dismissed."  
  
As the men and women began to leave the room, the Captain called out, "Commander Tucker? A moment please?" Trip and T'Pol exchanged a brief glance. As the rest of the officers exited, something happened the Captain could hardly believe. She reached out and grasped Trip's hand in her own.  
  
"It will be all right, Charles. I will see you soon." She walked quickly out of the room, head held high.  
  
Tucker turned an angry face on his friend. "Dammit, Cap'n! She shouldn't be goin' down there!"  
  
"That's quite enough, Commander." Archer stressed the rank. "When this is over, I look forward to hearing all about how you two became whatever it is you are, but for now understand this: your personal relationship will have no bearing on how I decide to run this ship. Is that clear, Commander?"  
  
"How about T'Pol's personal relationship, Cap'n," the southern drawl made his superior's rank sound like a bad swear word.  
  
"What the hell are you talking about, Trip?" Archer leaned across the table.  
  
With an audible sigh, Tucker hung his head as he told his friend, "Lady T'Shar is her mother."  
  
  
  
Major Jenson and Lieutenant Reed entered the shuttle bay followed closely by their support teams. The officers entered the shuttle pod to find T'Pol already seated at the pilot's seat, finalizing the pre-flight checklist. She turned to look at them as the small group settled in. "We are ready to go, gentlemen." She turned back to the helm and began to move the shuttle toward the large bay doors once receiving clearance from Ensign Sato on the bridge.  
  
The shuttle cleared the larger ship and set course for the planet. Tucker and Archer emerged onto the bridge just in time to see the vehicle make its descending arc toward the atmosphere of Mori. "Damn," muttered Archer. The two men looked at each other before Trip moved off to take his position at the engineering console.  
  
  
  
Shuttle pod two passed uneventfully through the upper stratosphere and continued its gentle descent over Keda. "Scans show the first shuttle pod to be approximately 500 km ahead, Lieutenant. There is a heavily wooded area with a small clearing at its center. It appears that Ensign Mayweather was able to put down there."  
  
"Aye, Commander," Reed answered.  
  
As they came overhead of shuttle pod one, T'Pol adjusted the thrusters to hover prior to setting down. "There are three bio-signs," she reported as she rolled the small ship around and leveled it out. They began to descend steadily.  
  
"Three?" Reed asked. "There were five on board," he continued in a voice that revealed his upset. "Who'd we lose?"  
  
"Unknown. We will find out shortly, however," she answered as pod two shuddered against the hard surface.  
  
The MACO's and Reed's support crew made their way out of the hatch with due haste, weapons at the ready. T'Pol followed closely behind, making her way quickly to the crashed ship. Scorch marks were evident and there had obviously been a small fire along the port nacelle. She reached the wreckage first by advancing through the security forces. She opened the hatch.  
  
"Commander!" Travis exclaimed. His head was bandaged in a makeshift fashion; blood seeped through at the temple. In addition, his right arm was in a sling, held tight against his chest.  
  
She surveyed the physical damage to the helmsman before continuing her visual inspection of the shuttle's interior. She found her target lying across the floor at the back of the craft. "Mother," she uttered as she made her way to the older woman's side. As she approached, the older woman's assistant, Jesa, appeared from around the small bulkhead.  
  
"What is wrong with her?" T'Pol demanded of the other female.  
  
"She is stable in a healing trance. Her injuries were not severe, but Mr. Sovid is dead."  
  
"So is the MACO, Corporal Lake," Travis spoke up for the first time since she entered. She turned briefly and noticed Lieutenant Reed tending to the young man and guards placed at the hatchway.  
  
"Very well; we should relocate to the other shuttle and return to Enterprise."  
  
Jesa immediately brought Lady T'Shar out of her healing trance with a swift slap across the cheek. The Enterprise men looked up in surprise, but held their tongues when they noticed that T'Pol seemed to approve of this practice. "Mother?" the Science Officer asked softly. The elder woman stirred and met her daughter's stare.  
  
"I can see worry in your eyes, daughter. You should meditate more often." The rebuke was gentle, almost teasing, and T'Pol was certain that her mother must still be affected by her injuries or possibly by the after- effects of the healing trance.  
  
"Yes, I am certain of that," she dryly answered. "You must move. We need to get to the other shuttle pod." The entourage began its relocation, but they had barely made it halfway to the safety of pod two when the crackle of phase weapons stirred the air around them.  
  
"Ma'am," Reed shouted over the sounds of weapon fire, "I suggest we run. There is no defensible position here." All of the MACO's and security had attempted to form a protective circle around the diplomats and wounded, but they were out in the open. Collectively, the group agreed and proceeded to follow that advice.  
  
  
  
"Shuttle pod two to Enterprise," Travis's voice echoed over the channel Hoshi had opened a moment ago. The shuttle was visible now, slicing through the invisible barrier that defined the planet's outer reaches.  
  
"Enterprise here," Archer responded, rising as if to make himself heard better. "Status?"  
  
"Sir, we've taken injuries. Recommend you have Dr. Phlox meet us at the landing bay." The young ensign paused, and Reed's voice cut in to replace it. "And Captain, you may want to have Commander Tucker there as well." The Englishman's tone was normally reserved, but now he sounded as if he were whispering at a funeral. 'Not a good sign,' thought his commanding officer.  
  
The Captain shared a quick glance with Sato. "Understood. We'll meet you there soon. Archer out." He breathed deep, dreading the next call. "Archer to Commander Tucker."  
  
"Yeah, Cap'n? Tucker here." The answer came back quickly. The younger man sounded busy. 'Probably working doubly hard so he doesn't have to think about T'Pol being on this away mission,' Archer thought with regret.  
  
"Commander, meet me in the landing bay. Archer out." The Captain turned to the Communications Officer. "Hoshi, hail Phlox and have a med team meet us as well." With that, the Captain was lost behind the closing doors of the lift.  
  
  
  
The medical team and Commander Tucker were already there, but Archer spared them not a glance as he heard the shuttle land beyond the heavy bulkheads. Once the safety board showed the bay as being repressurized, the Captain blew through the doors before they fully opened. The shuttle hatch was already opening. The first sight that greeted Trip as he made his way into the bay was that of T'Pol being carried off the shuttle by Reed. Her eyes were closed and there was a deep green stain spreading across the front of her uniform. He lost all rational thought as he ran forward to take her slim form from his good friend. "Oh God! T'Pol!"  
  
End Chapter 5 


	6. Chapter 6

More to Tell, Ch. 6 Sequel to: Confessions  
  
By: Angel  
  
Summary: A Vulcan diplomat onboard Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong?  
  
Archive: Let me know where.  
  
Rating: I guess PG, for now.  
  
Disclaimers: Star Trek and its many incarnations are the property of others and therefore I do not financially benefit from this in any way.  
  
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Tensions ran high in the outer waiting area of sickbay. Commander Tucker paced furiously, his hand running through his hair almost constantly. He kept his gaze pointed at the carpet and would occasionally mumble something under his breath. Finally, he looked pointedly at Lieutenant Reed. "Tell me again, Malcolm. What happened?"  
  
The tactical officer glanced at his Captain for some sort of reassurance, and received a slight nod. Malcolm looked up to see silent tears streaking down Tucker's face as he answered him. "As I said already, sir, we were on our way back to the second shuttle with the survivors from the first shuttle's crash landing. Without warning, we came under attack. There was no available cover, so our best bet was to run for the safety of the shuttle, which we did. Just before reaching the hatch, I saw Commander T'Pol shove Lady T'Shar out of the way as an energy beam coursed through the air. The next thing I knew, T'Pol was on the ground, bleeding profusely. I grabbed her up and made for the shuttle." He paused to watch his friend's quiet nod. "Once onboard, I checked her for a pulse. It was weak, but present. We were already on our way back to Enterprise by then, so I continued to sit on the floor and hold her body. She was unconscious the entire time." His replay ended, Reed looked again to his Captain.  
  
Archer mouthed a silent 'thank you' to Reed for his patient repeated retelling of the incident that had occurred two hours ago. He stood and adopted his most official stance. "All right. Malcolm, get up to the bridge, find out what's going on on the surface. We knew there was trouble here, but we expected it to be verbal, not violent." With a grateful nod, the Englishman rushed from the room. The Captain now had just Trip to deal with. "Trip," he began as he searched for the proper words. "I don't know what's been going on with you two exactly, but you can talk to me. I'm sure she'll be fine. Dr. Phlox is the best there is, you know that." He clapped a hand on his friend's shoulder for good measure.  
  
The engineer raised his eyes to meet his long-time friend's. He felt the tears begin again as his emotions roiled inside like an unruly ocean. "I don't even know where to begin, Cap'n." He heaved a heavy sigh and collapsed into a nearby chair. His head hung low and he supported it with his hands, his elbows rested on his thighs. After a moment's pause, he looked up again. "I love her," he stated clearly. "I love her more than I would have thought possible. I love her the way my daddy loves my momma. I love her so much it hurts inside when I can't be with her. I love her more than my engines." He gave Archer a silly smile, which his Captain returned. Then, he hung his head again and cried.  
  
Captain Archer didn't know what to say. Whatever he'd been expecting, it wasn't that. He knew they were friends, suspected they were lovers, but 'in love'? He never would have imagined it.  
  
"Do ya' think she'll live?" Trip managed to whisper.  
  
Archer put a gentle hand on his friend's back. "I'm sure the doctor's doing everything he can for her."  
  
"What's takin' so long?"  
  
"I don't know, Trip. We just have to patient, and maybe pray a little."  
  
  
  
It was a reserved Dr. Phlox that approached the two men. He pulled a chair over to sit directly in front of Trip. The younger man looked up with heavy eyes to try and gauge the physician's body language. Dr. Phlox reached out a hand and placed it lightly on the engineer's knee. "Commander Tucker? I wanted to let you know that Commander T'Pol is out of surgery." For the first time, Trip took notice of the green stains that marred the doctor's outer coat. He felt himself become nauseated by the sight, but forced it down so that he could listen to the man's prognosis.  
  
Archer put a supportive hand on Trip's back. He leaned in slightly to feel more part of the group and to lend physical support if needed.  
  
The Denobulan sighed deeply but continued on. "I will not lie to you, she is in very serious condition. It's a miracle that she even survived the operation given the amount of blood she had already lost." At that, the doctor noticed Commander Tucker turn a shade paler. He needed to relay some confidence, and quickly. "However, the Commander is an extremely strong woman, as you well know, and thanks to her resilient Vulcan physiology she should recover. I will allow you a few moments to visit, but then I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to go for tonight. She won't regain consciousness until tomorrow anyway, and you will need to be properly rested as well."  
  
Trip's head had jerked up at the promise of her recovery. He began nodding in earnest, barely hearing another word the man said, until he mentioned visitation. Trip was out of his chair and headed to the doorway before the doctor finished speaking.  
  
Archer turned to face the smiling physician. "How about the rest of the casualties?"  
  
The doctor shook his head in dismissal. "Nothing serious. I'll be keeping them overnight for observation, but they should all be released tomorrow, although, Mr. Mayweather may not be ready to fly ships again for a week or so with his sprained wrist. I've given them all a mild sedative already and they are all sleeping quietly."  
  
The Captain stood as if to go. "Good, good. Keep me updated, Doctor." He turned to the exit.  
  
"How are the nightmares, Captain?" the doctor inquired.  
  
Archer faced the Denobulan again. "They're still there, if that's what you mean. I don't expect them to go away quickly, doctor, but I'm dealing with them. The Xindi conflict is over, that is reality. Bad dreams are just that." Again, he went for the exit, but paused at the sound of the doctor's voice.  
  
"I'm not a psychiatrist, Captain, but I believe you need to talk to someone about these images before they effect your ability to command. We all made compromises to our ethics in the Expanse, you above all. There's no shame in admitting you need help to deal with that."  
  
Without turning, the Captain answered, "I'll keep that in mind." He left sickbay in search of a stiff drink.  
  
  
  
"Well, darlin', I don't think our little secret is much of a secret anymore," Trip began as held T'Pol's hand. She was pale, but her face was relaxed. With his other hand, he gently stroked her hair as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. "I can hardly wait to see your eyes flashin' angry at me when ya' find out. I didn't actually tell anyone, 'cept Jon that is, but I'm pretty sure Malcolm figured it out. Which means, he told Hoshi, which means that by tomorrow mornin', the whole ship'll know." He smiled at her.  
  
"Aw, T'Pol, your gonna be pissed, but at least you'll be alive. It'll be the best fight we ever had, just because I'll know how close I came to not havin' it." He had continued to brush her hair with his fingers, and now gently traced a pointed ear.  
  
He heard the doctor approach, but didn't look up. "I have to go now, don't I?"  
  
"It would be best for the Commander; and for you, I dare say. You will need a great deal of energy to help her during her convalescence." Tucker glanced up at him. The doctor stood a few feet away, an understanding grin plastered across his broad features.  
  
"All right, I'm goin'." He returned his gaze to T'Pol's face. "Now, don't you worry, darlin'. I'll be back first thin' tomorrow. For now, rest and get better." He leaned close to her and kissed her forehead again, allowing his lips to linger. Then he moved his mouth down to her ear and whispered, "I love ya'. Don'cha forget that." After a brief squeeze of her hand, he stood straight and faced Phlox again. "Okay, doc. I'm goin'. Call me if there's any change?"  
  
"Absolutely, now get out of my sickbay." The man's smile grew wider as he shooed the Commander from the room.  
  
  
  
The sound of screaming woke Captain Archer. It took a few seconds before he realized that it was his own voice. He rose slowly from the desk chair where he'd apparently passed out after having several nice shots of brandy and made his way to the bathroom. After splashing cold water on his face, he looked at himself in the mirror. "Jon, you look like hell." With that, he staggered back into the bedroom. Porthos lay curled up in the middle of the bed, snoring softly. Archer pulled off his clothes and climbed onto the mattress in his underwear. He started to reach for the light switch, but his hand stopped halfway there. He glanced around, as if making sure no one was present to catch their Captain sleeping with the lights on, and then pulled his hand back completely. He snuggled up to a spare pillow and waited for the dream to come again.  
  
  
  
End Chapter 6 


	7. Chapter 7

More to Tell, Ch. 7 Sequel to: Confessions  
  
By: Angel  
  
Summary: A Vulcan diplomat onboard Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong?  
  
Archive: Let me know where.  
  
Rating: I guess PG, for now.  
  
Disclaimers: Star Trek and its many incarnations are the property of others and therefore I do not financially benefit from this in any way.  
  
Notes: Wow! This story has really taken on a life of its own. Originally, I envisioned it as having 4, maybe 5 chapters, but here we are on seven and still going strong! I don't know about you, but I can't wait to see how it ends!  
  
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Trip entered Sickbay early the following morning, as promised, and headed straight for the curtain-wrapped enclosure he knew held T'Pol's sleeping form. As he approached however, he heard voices from within. He paused, not wanting to interrupt if the doctor was examining her, but as he listened it became clear that that was not the case.  
  
"Daughter," Lady T'Shar's voice started. "It was truly illogical of you to become injured simply in the hopes of delaying our conversation."  
  
T'Pol's more familiar tones drifted out to the Commander's ears. "Really, Mother? I should think any means necessary to put off this particular talk would be welcome."  
  
"Why did you not allow us to contact you, T'Pol? Your father and I have been most distressed by your absence."  
  
"Don't you mean by my choice of career?" There was a subtle anger rising in her voice.  
  
Lady T'Shar sighed. "Please do not presume to tell me what I mean. You are perfectly well aware of the fact that we strongly support the humans and their mission of exploration. We were not opposed to you becoming a member of Starfleet."  
  
The pause T'Pol gave offered Trip a moment to reflect. 'They weren't opposed? So, why did she separate from them?'  
  
"Mother, my decisions over the past few years have been...questionable, by Vulcan traditional standards. I did not wish to burden the family with the consequences of those choices." Her voice dropped even lower and Trip had to strain to hear the next comment. "Or, over any I may make in the future."  
  
"Ah, yes, your broken betrothal. Well, you know, we did not really approve of that situation entirely. It was your father's mother who desired to see you betrothed as a child. We preferred to allow you to choose your own mate. Then, there was the issue of joining Starfleet. I believe I have already stated that we supported that venture. What issues of the future should we prepare for, daughter?"  
  
Trip's hands began to sweat. 'Okay, so her family's not pissed about the past, but what about the human boyfriend?' he wondered.  
  
"There is something," T'Pol faltered.  
  
"You speak of your relationship with the human, Commander Tucker?" T'Pol must have nodded because Lady T'Shar continued. "Well, I can not say that it is entirely unexpected. You have always been unique, T'Pol. As a child, you sought ways to make the most illogical actions seem to have a basis in Surak." She paused for a moment. "Our family is proud to be Vulcan, daughter, and we are proud to carry on the belief in a logical society. However, your father and I raised you to be an independent woman. We wished our children to accept all of the parts of their being, even their emotions, within reason. It is only logical, therefore, that you would develop feelings for someone you have worked with for such a long period of time."  
  
"Then, you are not disappointed?"  
  
"Oh, child, how could you disappoint me by being who you are? Tell me, this Commander Tucker, how does he feel about you?"  
  
"He loves me," she stated as Trip's breath caught in his throat.  
  
"Good. And how do you feel about him?"  
  
"I...love him very much." Tears of joy rolled down Trip's face.  
  
"Then that is what is important, daughter. It will not be easy for either of you, but I am certain that you will do the logical thing and support each other. Now, no more talk of disappointment or disowning. You are my child and I'll not have someone else, even you, tell me I can't speak with you."  
  
Doctor Phlox came around the corner at just that moment and saw Trip wiping the last tears from his face. "Commander? Is there something wrong?" His normally cheerful smile pulled down slightly as he approached the engineer.  
  
"What? Oh no, doc. I'm fine." He walked to the partition and began to go around its edge. "Better than fine."  
  
  
  
"I don't understand, Captain Archer," the small alien remarked. "You refuse to send down the mediator?" The Morian was short, with translucent skin, bright red eyes, and a shock of white hair. His voice was squeaky but firm.  
  
Archer stood tall in front of his command chair and addressed the image on the viewscreen. "That's right, Mr. Roki. One of my shuttles was already fired upon, I don't intend to lose another; not to mention any more lives." He paused and let the situation sink in. "Now, if you and the representative from Keda would like to join us on Enterprise, we would be happy to host peace talks." The Captain resumed his seat while the little man considered the offer.  
  
"Very well, Captain. We will arrive shortly." The signal faded and was replaced by starscape.  
  
"Nicely done, sir," Reed commented from his post. "One down, one to go."  
  
The Captain swiveled to grin at the tactical officer. "So it seems, Mr. Reed." He turned back toward Hoshi. "Ensign Sato, open a channel to Keda."  
  
  
  
Lady T'Shar emerged onto the bridge a short time later after being summoned by the Captain. "Ah, Lady T'Shar. Welcome to the bridge. We are about to receive our guests, and then you can finally begin your work." His expression was gratious and she inclined her head at him in reply. Together, they waited several long moments. Archer resumed his seat, and let his mind wander.  
  
The entire bridge crew looked expectantly at the screen as two small ships came into view. They approached Enterprise side by side after leaving orbit. When they got within twenty thousand kilometers, Archer suddenly turned to Reed. His face a mask of rage, he barked commands. "Lieutenant! What are you waiting for? Lock weapons on those ships! Fire at will." His hands gripped his armrests with white knuckles, but his eyes blazed at Reed.  
  
Utter confusion reigned supreme throughout the bridge. Reed looked back at the Captain with undisguised doubt. "But, sir," he managed.  
  
"But, what? This is the enemy. This is the chance we've been waiting for! If we don't attack those ships, the Xindi will be able to launch the weapon! Now stop questioning my orders and fire!" He was standing now, barely inches from the tactical station. Reed could see the veins in his commander's neck pulsating as the older man's face flushed red with fury.  
  
For possibly the first time in any Reed's life, he disobeyed. Malcolm placed his hands behind his back and stepped away from his console. He stood at parade rest half a meter from the Captain and looked him in the eye. "No, sir. I'm afraid I can not follow that command."  
  
Archer stormed around the panel, shoving Malcolm out of the way. "Fine! I'll do it myself." His fingers danced over the buttons, entering the proper codes to enable weapons and setting the firing sequences. "I can't believe this. Weapons weren't even on line! What the hell is wrong with you people?"  
  
Finally, the rest of the crew snapped back to reality. Sato tried to engage the Captain. "Sir, we were expecting these ships. Remember? They are coming here for peace talks." She hoped that by not mentioning races, she could play along with his charade enough to make him trust her.  
  
"Peace? The Xindi don't want peace. All they know is destruction and hate! I'll kill them with my bare hands if they board my ship!" He abandoned the weapons console to run for the turbolift, presumably to head to the airlocks. Before he could get there however, Lady T'Shar stepped forward from the shadows and stopped him with a well-placed pinch to base of his neck. The Captain crumbled to the floor in an artificially induced sleep even as Reed reached over and disabled the weapons.  
  
The two vessels continued their short voyage unaware of their near destruction. They docked a few minutes later.  
  
  
  
When the Captain awoke in Sickbay a short while later, he was surprised to say the least. He clutched his head as he sat up on the biobed. "Oh...What the hell happened?"  
  
The doctor rushed over to attend to his patient's needs. "Ah, Captain. Feeling better?"  
  
"Than what, doctor? I can't imagine feeling much worse." He still sat on the biobed, his head hung down as he massaged his temples with his hands. Then, he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes, hard. He rubbed them fiercely to try and clear his vision. "What the hell happened? The last thing I remember is welcoming Lady T'Shar to the bridge, then waking up here. Was there an explosion or something?"  
  
"Not exactly, Captain," Phlox shook his head, his usual broad grin replaced by a look of concern. His lips pursed tightly together as checked the readouts on his bio-scanner. "How have you been sleeping, sir?"  
  
"Not great," Archer answered with exasperation. "Look, what's this about, Phlox? You know I've had nightmares for awhile now. What's that got to do with..."  
  
Phlox held up a hand to stop the Captain's questions and nodded at him. "Yes, I am aware of the nightmares. What I was unaware of though was that they were affecting you during the day. Apparently, you had a waking nightmare while on the bridge. Even though you remained conscious, your sub-conscious took over." The doctor shook his head at him as he continued. "You attempted to destroy two innocent vessels, thinking them to be Xindi." His tone was hushed, but the words were powerful.  
  
"What! Was anyone hurt? How could this have happened?" He tried to jump off the bed, but was detained by the physician, who shook his head again.  
  
"No, no one was hurt, this time. Captain, I'm afraid I must insist that you seek help regarding these dreams. You may not be so fortunate next time. If Lady T'Shar hadn't rendered you unconscious, who knows what damage you might have done."  
  
Again, Archer held his head, but this time he nodded in reply. "Okay, doc. Tell me what to do."  
  
"I'm afraid, Captain, that I really don't know. I'm not a psychiatrist. Perhaps speaking to a friend would help, but regardless, I refuse to certify you fit for command until you have at least three consecutive nights of eight straight hours of sleep and pass a mental evaluation."  
  
Archer's head jerked up at the list of requirements, but he said nothing. He knew the doctor wouldn't budge this time. "All right, doc. Can I go now? I need to let T'Pol, wait she's not cleared for duty yet, is she?" Phlox shook his head. "Okay, then, I need to let Trip know that he's in charge for a few days."  
  
The grin returned to the doctor's features as he nodded and waved a hand at the Captain. "Yes, yes. Get out of here. Go, find someone to talk to." The man paused a moment, then seemed to remember something. "In fact, I believe that Lady T'Shar has extensive training in the field of psychotherapy. Maybe she could be of assistance?"  
  
  
  
End Chapter 7 


	8. Chapter 8

More to Tell, Ch. 8 Sequel to: Confessions  
  
By: Angel  
  
Summary: A Vulcan diplomat onboard Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong?  
  
Archive: Let me know where.  
  
Rating: I guess PG, for now.  
  
Disclaimers: Star Trek and its many incarnations are the property of others and therefore I do not financially benefit from this in any way.  
  
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Archer ran hard. Sweat poured off his forehead in tiny rivulets that made their way down his face; his t-shirt was soaked, but on he ran. He closed his eyes and tried to picture a relaxing scene, maybe running along the beach, 'yeah, that'd be nice,' he thought. But, the image wouldn't hold, and before long he was mentally right back where he started, the Enterprise gym, putting a treadmill to the test.  
  
The gym was deserted. It was early afternoon, and most of the crew was either on duty or in the middle of their sleep cycle. So, he trudged through another kilometer alone. The sound of his footfalls echoed heavily through the small room and the hum of the machine droned on as he used it to regulate his breathing. Despite the theoretical distance he'd gone, he knew he wasn't exhausted enough to sleep yet. At least, not without the dreams.  
  
'Maybe I should contact Lady T'Shar, like Phlox suggested,' he thought. He knew that T'Pol had been a great help to Trip during their time in the Expanse, but he just wasn't ready to admit he needed a shoulder to cry on, not that he envisioned himself literally crying, least of all on a Vulcan shoulder, but still...he just couldn't do it.  
  
The door whooshed open and he heard the soft footsteps approach. He opened his eyes reluctantly to acknowledge the fellow crewman and was surprised to find the object of his most recent thoughts standing beside the treadmill. Lady T'Shar was dressed in the traditional robes of her people, but something about her relayed an attitude of relaxation.  
  
"Captain," she greeted. "I hope I'm not disturbing you, but I was in Sickbay visiting with T'Pol when Dr. Phlox mentioned that you have a problem that I may be able to assist you with."  
  
Archer reached out a hand and shut off the treadmill. He grabbed his towel from the handlebar and wiped his face before replying. "Really? Well, Dr. Phlox should mind his own business. Sorry you made a trip down here for nothing, but I'm fine." He walked calmly over to the weight bench. He laid down and began to lift the bar up and over his chest.  
  
T'Shar watched with growing confusion. "Do not be embarrassed, Captain. It is logical that people occasionally need some assistance in dealing with their emotions. As I am trained in many methods of therapy, I am a logical resource for that help."  
  
The Captain pumped the weights up and down in earnest. "I bet you Vulcans don't need help, do you? You probably don't even have feelings like anger, regret, fury, doubt..." his voice trailed off.  
  
"Of course we do. As I'm sure you know by now, Vulcans have the same emotions as humans. In fact, Vulcan emotions are very powerful. That is why we must suppress them, so that they do not control us. As a result, we have developed a variety of therapies to assist us in that endeavor." She had moved closer to the Captain and was watching him closely. He was nearing the point of exhaustion and she worried for his safety as he raised and lowered the weights repeatedly.  
  
"Yeah, well, I'm not Vulcan. I don't want to suppress my feelings. They are part of who I am, good and bad. I just have to learn to live with them." He could feel the muscles of his arms tiring out. His repetitions began to slow and his breathing was becoming haggard.  
  
"I quite agree; humans should not attempt to suppress emotions, but they can manage them better, incorporate them into their being with greater acceptance. You should not deny your feelings, Captain, but neither should you let them dominate your life."  
  
He reached up to place the bar back in its holder, but his arms had grown weak and he missed. As he watched, the heavy bar fell toward his head, but suddenly it stopped. He looked up to see Lady T'Shar holding the offending piece of equipment with one hand. She gently placed it in its carriage as she said, "You are a friend to my daughter and to her chosen one. Please, let me help you master yourself."  
  
Archer closed his eyes in resignation and acceptance. He nodded slowly.  
  
  
  
"Ah, Commander," Phlox stated jovially as Trip entered Sickbay. "How good to see you, and perfect timing, too."  
  
"What'd'ya mean, 'perfect timing', doc?"  
  
"I was just about to release Commander T'Pol and I would appreciate it if you would escort her to her quarters and see that she gets properly settled in. She is still on restricted duty and mandatory rest." He waved at the Commander to follow him further into the medical chamber.  
  
T'Pol opened the curtain that had been drawn around her bed and walked toward the men, meeting them halfway across the room. "Indeed, I am in need of meditation more than anything else." At Trip's slight tilt of the head she amended, "Well, almost anything else."  
  
Tucker approached her, a broad smile forming on his face, and stood by her side. She quirked an eyebrow at him and his smile grew. "Ya' got it, doc. I'll get her home right now." He placed a hand gently on her elbow to guide her from the room.  
  
The doctor grinned widely before it turned to a quick frown. He turned to face the retreating figures and clarified, "She needs rest, Commander. That means sleep, nothing else. Understood?"  
  
"Why, doc, whatever do ya' mean?" The acting captain pushed his charge steadily through the doors.  
  
  
  
To say that T'Pol was disappointed would be an understatement. She knew, logically, that her body needed rest, but all she really wanted was for Trip to hold her close and make love to her all night long. He, however, had no intentions of being responsible for a relapse in her condition.  
  
"Now, darlin', the doc says you need rest, and that's what you're gonna get." He tucked her gently into the bunk amid her protests.  
  
"Surely, though, you can stay and keep me company? Perhaps some conversation?" If she were human, it would've been a whine.  
  
"Uh uh, no way. If I stay to 'talk' ya' won't get any sleep and then the doc'll probably drug me just to keep me away from ya'." He proceeded to blow out the meditation candles she had finished using a short time ago.  
  
She gave him her version of a pout, which looked just like every other expression she made, but was quiet. He came and sat beside her on the bunk. "I want to ask ya' somethin'." He shyly looked down at his hands, then he reached out and took one of hers and held it. "Would ya' do me the honor of havin' dinner with me tomorrow night?"  
  
"Trip, we have had many meals together."  
  
"Yeah, but I want to ask ya' out on a real date, without havin' to wonder if anybody suspects anythin'."  
  
T'Pol considered this. The Captain knew of their relationship, as did Lt. Reed, and by extension probably most of the crew. Her Mother knew and even approved. She could find no logical reason to maintain an illusion of distance. "I would be honored to have dinner with you, Charles."  
  
"Aw, now, don't do that. Ya' know I hate that name!" He smiled just the same and kissed her cheek. "Goodnight, darlin'. I'll see ya' tomorrow.  
  
As he stood to go, she whispered softly, "I love you, Trip."  
  
  
  
End Chapter 8  
  
Notes: I'm leaving for vacation tomorrow, so I won't be able to post the next chapter for almost two weeks. I hope you'll stick with me though! See ya soon! 


	9. Chapter 9

More to Tell, Ch. 9

Sequel to: Confessions

By: Angel

Summary: A Vulcan diplomat onboard Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong?

Archive: Let me know where.

Rating: I guess PG, for now.

Disclaimers: Star Trek and its many incarnations are the property of others and therefore I do not financially benefit from this in any way.

Notes: I wanted to say thanks for all the great responses after the last chapter. Yes, I had a wonderful time on vacation. 10 days with a husband and three small kids can be a bit trying, but I think we all had fun! Chicago and Cincinnati were great, and my 5 year old rode the Racer at Kings Island for the first time! How proud am I? She loved it! Okay, here's the next chapter, and the next one is almost done. Enjoy!

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"What did you say?" Trip questioned, almost afraid to believe what he'd heard.

She let a small smile grace her features before retreating behind her usual façade. "I am certain that you heard me. I said that I love you."

He stood flabbergasted for a moment. Then, he grinned the most beautiful grin she had ever seen. Trip sat back down on her bunk. Their eyes met and held as he took her hands in his. Finally he found his voice; it was almost a whisper. "Thank you. That is the most precious gift I've ever been given."

He leaned down and kissed her softly. Her mouth opened to him and he probed it gently with his tongue. His hand stroked up her cheek to caress the delicate tip of her ear. He felt himself emotionally and physically swelling with love for her.

T'Pol raised her hands up to grasp the back of his head. She pulled his mouth deeper into the kiss and his body down onto the bunk. He lay over her as she continued her ministrations; she scratched her nails through his hair, down to his broad shoulders, and back up again.

Trip knew he was losing himself in her. He no longer knew where he ended and she began. Briefly, his mind processed this information and he reveled in the complete bliss of the moment. Suddenly, he pulled back from her. He saw the blur of passion on her face as she opened her eyes. He smiled down at the love of his life and stroked his hand through her hair. "You're good, I'll give ya' that," he said in a husky voice.

"What do you mean?" she quirked her head.

"I love you, but I have to go now, or I won't be leaving here tonight." He stood and attempted to regain his composure. Their relationship may not be much of a secret anymore, but it still wouldn't be a good idea for a junior officer or crewman to see him exit the Commander's quarters in a state of disarray.

She sighed. "I did not tell you that simply as a means of manipulation." She paused as she surveyed him. "However, I will have to remember its effectiveness for future needs."

His smile beamed his understanding. "I know, darlin'. I love you, too." He walked to the door. "Now get some rest."

"Dammit!" Jon Archer's voice boomed through the small guest room. "This isn't working." He pushed himself up from the floor where he'd been sitting cross-legged across from Lady T'Shar. "My feet are asleep and I'm no closer to relaxing!"

Calmly, she leaned forward and blew out the candle that had sat flickering between them. She rose gracefully and watched in silence as the Captain paced the room, shaking out his lower extremities.

"I don't get it," he continued to gripe. "Why isn't this working? I thought this meditation thing was supposed to help me sleep."

"Perhaps it is not working because you are not really trying." Her tone was not accusatory, merely factual.

He turned on her abruptly, his features contorting in anger. "What the hell is that supposed to mean? What else do you want from me?"

"I want nothing from you, Captain. Except, of course, for your full participation in your own treatment."

Now his face changed to reveal his loss. He lowered his eyes. "I don't know what to do. I've tried everything you suggested." Archer looked up into her face again. "I even tried to meditate on my own last night," he admitted sheepishly.

She tilted her head and raised one eyebrow in appreciation. "Indeed? Well, perhaps it is merely your focus that needs assistance." She paused as she seemed to consider him. "Do you trust me, Captain?"

The question surprised him. Why wouldn't he trust her? Why did she want to know if he did? What exactly did she have in mind? He thought about it for a moment. "Sure; why?" he finally answered with a bit of trepidation.

"I have another option I'd like to suggest, but it will require a great deal of effort on both our parts and even more trust." She held his gaze steadily, but he thought he detected a slight waver in her voice.

He was intrigued. What could she possibly be suggesting? "Okay...What do I do?"

She closed her eyes briefly and took a deep, cleansing breath. "Very well. First, you must make a vow of privacy. The method we are about to use is extremely private to Vulcans and very personal. I will expect your total confidentiality."

That caught his attention. "If you're talking about the neuro-pressure method, I'm familiar with it." He felt safe that this was her idea; after all, what could be more personal than that? Of course, he didn't really know the specifics of those sessions, but he had a general idea.

If Lady T'Shar was surprised by his statement, she hid it well. "No, Captain, I am not referring to neuro-pressure; although your familiarity with that procedure is interesting. The therapy I am recommending is known as a mind-meld."

"What! You can't be serious!"

"I assure you, Captain, I am quite serious. Mind-melds are an age-old practice and have proven quite effective in dealing with various mental disorders on Vulcan." She paused and looked thoughtful. "Again, I am surprised by your knowledge of private Vulcan matters. I must speak with T'Pol regarding her lack of discretion."

Archer shook his head. "No, don't bother. It wasn't her fault I learned about either one." He contemplated his options before saying, "You really think a mind-meld could help me with these nightmares?" His voice was soft, hesitant. He had barely dared to hope that she could help him with the meditation, now it seemed that this was his last chance.

"I am not certain, but I do believe that it may be the best choice at this point."

T'Pol opened her closet and pondered the contents. 'This is extremely illogical,' she thought. 'When did what I wear become a difficult decision?' She knew the answer to that question. "The same time I began to want to impress Trip," she acknowledged aloud.

Finally, she settled on a casual robe in the traditional Vulcan style. As she finished fastening the inner closure, the door chime sounded. "Enter," she called.

The door opened to reveal Commander Tucker in slacks and a shirt; in his hand he held a small package. "Hey, beautiful," he greeted. He walked to her and dropped a tender kiss on her mouth. "I brought ya' somethin'." He offered her the gift shyly.

As she reached out to accept it she asked, "What is the purpose of this gift?"

"Well, it's traditional for a gentleman to bring flowers to a lady when they date. But we don't have any flowers on board, so I had to improvise."

She raised an eyebrow as she carefully opened the box. Inside was a delicate appearing piece of jewelry. She picked up the rose-shaped gold pin and turned it over in her hand. "I do not understand."

Tenderly, he took the pin from her and silently asked permission to pin it to her robe. She nodded as he pushed the sharp point through and fastened the clasp. As he brushed it gently against her upper chest, he explained. "This was Elizabeth's. I gave it to her when she graduated from college. When I was home on leave after the Expanse mission, my Mom gave it back to me. I don't know why I brought it on board with me; I guess because I couldn't bear to leave it abandoned on Earth with the rest of my stuff. It woulda felt like I was leaving Lizzie alone. Now I'm glad I kept it."

He smiled despite the glistening in his eyes. T'Pol reached a hand up and brushed his cheek. "I can not accept this. You should keep it."

"There's no point in it sittin' in a box forever. I'd rather give it to ya' so that when I see ya wearin' it, I'll be in the presence of the two women I love most." Abruptly, he changed the subject. "Come on, I'm starvin'!" He led her from the room.

End Chapter 9


	10. Chapter 10

More to Tell, Ch. 10

Sequel to: Confessions

By: Angel

Summary: A Vulcan diplomat onboard Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong?

Archive: Let me know where.

Rating: I guess PG, for now.

Disclaimers: Star Trek and its many incarnations are the property of others and therefore I do not financially benefit from this in any way.

Notes: It has come to my attention that Dr. Phlox did mention being a psychiatrist during an episode. Oops, my fault. I must have missed that. Also, a technical note. I have been separating my scenes with a simple . However, it seems that ff.n has changed their systems, and now when I upload a document, that line has been erased. Again, sorry! I know how confusing it can be to read a story that doesn't differentiate between scenes. I'll work on it for future chapters. On with the show:

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"My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts." The mantra echoed in the stillness of the small room. Candlelight played across the faces of the two occupants as they sat across from each other. Their eyes were closed, her fingers touched his face at the pressure points, and she repeated the phrase again.

The Captain felt supremely silly. He was a grown man having nightmares, and because of them, he had resorted to this seemingly ridiculous activity. T'Shar had told him to relax; that the procedure would be more effective if his mind was receptive to her. He took another deep breath and tried to be mentally inviting.

She reached out with her thoughts. A slight tingle seemed to start at her temple and move down to her fingertips, into his flesh. She released it; let it go freely. It deflected back to her. She tried again. "My mind to your mind. My thoughts to your thoughts." Her voice got softer, but she continued to repeat the phrase. Once more the mental energy surged through her, seeking its destination. It traveled quickly. This time it was haltingly accepted.

He gasped as he felt the burst of electricity rip through his mind. The surge erupted within his brain and sent its tendrils out. His eyes flew open, unseeing, as her strength found his weakness. The nightmare played over in his mind with her watching. As it neared the end, he heard her voice. "Look into the scene, Captain. Know it for the fiction it is. Watch as you reveal your worst fear."

"No. I...I can't.... I can't look. It's me. I've become the monster." His voice started out a fierce yell but it mellowed into barely a whisper.

She maneuvered her touch slightly to allow a change in blood flow. Then she began the work of undoing his fears. "Captain Archer, you are not a monster. You have done nothing wrong."

"No, I did. I made terrible decisions..." his voice faltered.

"You did nothing wrong. You made the choices you had to make. You saved your crew; you saved Earth. It is illogical to second guess yourself at this time."

"But, I..."

"Hear me! You have no reason to berate yourself. You must face this fear and release yourself from it." She projected an image of herself into the dream. She held his face hard and forced him to look at the nightmare again. The scenes began again. He watched himself running, fighting, and finally overcoming his opponent. His dream-self tried to turn away at the last moment to avoid seeing the imaginary foe unmasked. She held tight. He had no choice but to watch. The covering came off and he saw himself.

They stared together at the gruesome sight of his dead face on the alien body. Then, suddenly like a continuous loop movie, the scene started over and played out again. It repeated itself several times, and never once did she allow him to look away. Each time, the final image became a little more blurred. She continued giving him encouragement. At last, the head of the fallen man was smeared beyond recognition. Again, she reinforced his positive outcome. Once more the dream played out. This time though, in the final scene, as the mask was pulled off in triumph the head it revealed was green and scaled. The dead reptilian did not mock him. It merely stared at him with lifeless eyes. He recoiled slightly before leaning down and closing the lids.

T'Shar grasped his hand and pulled him away. She gently turned him by the shoulders and they walked into the blackness together.

In reality, the Captain's eyes had closed again sometime during the dream replays. Now, Lady T'Shar carefully removed her fingers from his face. He nearly fell forward with exhaustion. The deep, rhythmic breathing they had synchronized during the trance-like state began to shallow out and separate. Archer opened his eyes and immediately turned to look out the window at the stars.

"You know," he began when he thought he could speak without his voice cracking. "I never really believed all that mind-meld stuff before. I mean, I knew it was real, but I didn't really believe that I could ever do it." He stopped and looked at Lady T'Shar. She was obviously fatigued. "I can't thank you enough for this. I don't know what else to say."

"I believe the correct response is, 'you're welcome,'. There is no need to say anything else. It was a logical decision to help you." She began to rise slowly with a grateful nod at his offered hand. He pulled her gently to her feet. As she regained her balance, she clasped her hands together inside the generous sleeves of her robe. "Now, if you will excuse me, Captain, I must meditate. Mind-melds are very beneficial therapy, but they are quite exhausting."

"I would agree with that." Archer made his way to the door. It opened with a slight whoosh. "Thank you, again," he offered. Then he was gone.

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Malcolm Reed was the first to see them. He tapped Hoshi lightly on the arm and pointed with his fork. "Look at that," he whispered.

Her mouth fell open. "I didn't believe you, but I guess it's true."

Commander Tucker held his head high and proud as he led T'Pol into the dining room. She looked up at him with a passive face, but her eyes glowed. They made their way to a corner table where he pulled a chair out for her and helped her back in after she sat. He walked back up to choose their meals. T'Pol glanced around the room once, before her gaze settled on his back and remained still. Hoshi would have sworn she saw a small smile flitter across her features.

When Trip returned to the table with their food, she reached out with two fingers extended. He met her touch with his own and smiled adoringly at her. After a moment of silent communication, they withdrew their hands and began to eat. Their conversation was soft, but whatever the topic, it was obvious to everyone else in the room that the Commanders where sharing an intimate meal. They spoke quietly, with their heads tilted toward each other. At one point, Trip even reached out and held her hand on the tabletop.

The Engineer had gone up to get dessert for them when Ensign Sato came up to him. "Congratulations, Commander." She beamed at him, and he returned the smile with one of his own.

"Thanks, Hoshi. Thanks a lot."

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The following morning, the sound of the door buzzer woke Trip. It took him a moment to remember that he was in T'Pol's quarters, then another to realize that she was in the shower. He rose quickly from the bed, pulling on his trousers as he went. "Jus' a minute," he called out to the door.

He was still wiping the sleep from his face as he said, "Come in."

The silver-gray door slid away to reveal Lady T'Shar in her formal robes. She entered the cabin and met his gaze. "Commander. Good morning. Is T'Pol here?"

He was blushing like a schoolboy at being caught in his girlfriend's quarters by her mother. He just nodded and went to the bathroom to tell T'Pol she had company. When he returned, he said, "I'll just be going now." He grabbed his shirt off the nearby floor and pulled it on. "If you'll excuse me, ma'am." He moved toward the door.

"Actually, I'd prefer if you'd stay, Commander." He halted abruptly and turned to face her. "I will only be a moment, and I'm sure that T'Pol will want your company."

"Ma'am," he nodded his head in concession. "By the way, is there any chance I can get ya' to call me 'Trip'?" He smiled his most charming smile.

She tilted her head and raised an eyebrow simultaneously. Trip instantly felt more at ease. He laughed aloud. "Never mind," he said when he had caught his breath.

T'Pol emerged a short time later from the bathroom. Her hair was damp and she wore a simple silk robe. She raised her hand in the traditional Vulcan greeting. "Mother. What may I do for you this morning?" Her tone was loving and patient.

"I have come to inform you that I will be staying on Mori for a time. The talks are going well, but they require many more intense sessions that will probably last for several weeks. Jesa and I will remain here to complete them and a Vulcan transport will come for us when we are ready to leave."

"But, ma'am, is that safe? They already shot you down once."

She shook her head at his question. "Your concern is appreciated, Commander. However, since I will be traveling down to the planet surface with representatives from both governments on one shuttle pod, it would be illogical for either of their respective sides to open fire."

"Quite logical," T'Pol acknowledged. She had moved to stand beside Trip and now turned to face T'Shar fully. Again she raised her right hand and separated the fingers into a "V". "Live long and prosper, Mother."

"Peace and long life, daughter." The elder woman returned the hand gesture before turning to face Commander Tucker directly. "I believe, sir, that you have very strong feelings for my daughter?" At his nod, she continued. "I am pleased by this. Her Father and I give our blessing for this union. May it fulfill you both."

For a moment, Trip was stunned into silence. He knew that T'Pol's parents did not disapprove their relationship, but this was so accepting it shocked him. He finally found his voice again. "Thank you, ma'am." He moved closer to put an arm around T'Pol's waist. "I promise to do my best to make your daughter happy." He paused at the perplexed look he received from both women, and then burst into laughter as they shared a knowing glance.

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End Chapter 10


	11. Epilogue

More to Tell, Epilogue

Sequel to: Confessions

By: Angel

Summary: A Vulcan diplomat onboard Enterprise. What could possibly go wrong?

Archive: Let me know where.

Rating: I guess PG, for now.

Disclaimers: Star Trek and its many incarnations are the property of others and therefore I do not financially benefit from this in any way.

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Two weeks later:

"Well, Captain, I'd say that you have earned a completely clean bill of health," Dr. Phlox said, his voice dripping glee.

"I should hope so, Doctor. I haven't had a nightmare in almost two weeks, I've been eating properly, and I've even taken time to watch a couple of water polo matches. All in all, I'd say I'm feeling pretty good." Archer hopped down off the bio-bed and began pulling his shirt on.

"Excellent, Captain. I'm very glad to hear that you've been relaxing. Now, if you don't mind moving along, tonight is movie night and I've got quite a bit of work to do before I can go!" The Denobulan began shuffling the Captain toward the exit.

His commanding officer laughed sincerely. "All right, I'm going! See you at the movie," he called over his shoulder as he passed through the doors.

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The Captain emerged onto the bridge to find his two senior officers hounding each other at the science station. "Dammit, T'Pol! That jus' won't work. We can't draw that much power off the engines and redirect it to the sensor array. We'll blow half the damn circuits."

The Vulcan Science Officer merely tilted her head. "If you would finish listening to my proposal, Commander Tucker, I would clarify the baseline requirements to avoid any damage to the established systems."

Archer cast a glance at Ensign Sato, who smiled in return and shook her head as if to say, "Some things never change". He smiled, too, and then approached the excitable couple. "Hey, Trip! T'Pol. So, what's the situation with the sensor array upgrade?"

The two exchanged a look, each seeking permission to speak first, but before anyone could start, Hoshi interrupted. "Excuse me, Captain, but I have an incoming text message from Vulcan for Commander T'Pol."

Another glance passed among the three friends, this one of curiosity. Archer nodded at T'Pol, effectively allowing her to respond to the Communications Officer. "Very well, Ensign. Please relay it to my station." There was a short pause while T'Pol read the message and Trip tried to read it over her shoulder. Finally, the Vulcan woman straightened and faced her fellow officers.

"It is a message from my nephew, Sarek. He wanted to inform me that my Mother has returned home from Mori ahead of schedule. All went well with the peace negotiations. She asked him to forward her well wishes to you, Captain." She gazed shyly at Trip before continuing in a softer tone. "She sends her regards to you as well, Commander; and so does my Father."

He gave a slight nod in acknowledgement as he turned a light shade of red. Trip leaned closer to her ear and whispered, "See ya' at 1900 for dinner before the movie?" He interpreted her raised eyebrow as the acceptance it was meant to be before he headed for the turbolift. "Cap'n. See ya' tonight?" he asked before the lift doors closed.

The Captain nodded at the disappearing form. "Ensign Sato, acknowledge receipt of message. Ensign Mayweather? Maintain course and speed. Commander?" He faced T'Pol again. "You have the bridge." He headed for his ready room, his mind cleared by the gentle hum drifting through the deck plating.

The End


End file.
